Brooke Langston, a determined and resourceful young woman, volunteers as tribute to spare a sickly little girl who holds a special place in her heart. Little does she anticipate that her closest friend, Ray Adhira, would also be chosen, forcing them...
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The line between sky and ocean was blurred. Indistinctly both were colored an opaque gray-blue. The clouds hung low and heavy over the harbor and the ocean rocked uncontrollably.
The sound of Brooke's brisk pace and her shoes hitting the wooden planks of the dock were washed away in the crashing of the waves against the pier, and the spray that jumped up, licking at her ankles. Brooke relished in the noises of the pier; the chorus of gulls as they swarmed above the day's catch as the fisherman unloaded their nets, the clanking of the boats as their anchors were hauled up, their hulls creaking in the harbor. The voices of the men and women returning from a long day of hard work and persistence, laughter, gruff voices hidden behind beards, singing of sea shanties.
Brooke smiled as her hair whipped in the wind, she stalled her walk and closed her eyes momentarily, inhaling the fresh scent of the ocean breeze, a mix of salt, and the taste of rain on the horizon. Oh, how she loved her home, the beautiful and wealthy District Four.
"Langston! Brooke!"
Brooke opened her eyes and traced the calling voice to a boy about her age, waving from down at the end of the dock.
He stood with one hand holding onto a rope connected to a fishing boat, and the other waving through the air towards her. His brown hair blew across his face in the wind and she smiled as she picked up her pace to meet him.
"Adhira," she greeted him with, her tone mocking.
Ray rolled his eyes obnoxiously, "Okay, okay, enough with the last names, get your butt over here and help me out."
Grinning, she noted that he had the front of the fishing boat secured, his muscles pulled taut as he gently pulled the boat in. The fisherman on deck hurried about, securing their equipment and throwing buoys over the sides.
The back of the boat wasn't being pulled in much though, and Brooke hid a laugh as she saw three little girls holding the second rope and leaning their entire body weight against the pull of the hull and the ocean.
Cassidy, Jules, and Marin were merely ten, eleven, and twelve, their small frames didn't do much against the large fishing trawler.
"Look at you girls go!" Brooke remarked as she stood by them, hands on her hips.
Jules, Ray's little sister let out a groan of exasperation.
"This is impossible!" she complained. Drawing out the e.
"Here, I got it for you," Brooke told them and gently took the rope from their hands.
The girls hustled aside.
Wrapping it once around her hand for security, her other hand grabbed the robe, and she pulled it tightly. Her muscles felt good as she woke them up from a relatively relaxing day.
The boat was pulled in successfully and as quick as anything Ray and Brooke in sync tied the rope around the mooring ring.
She flipped her hair out of her face and stood up after the successful docking. Dusting her hands off she turned to the three young girls and mocked a bow.
